


To Wrangle a Wrath

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Series: To Surprise a Sun ‘verse [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - HomeSky/WarSky, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Implied Referenced Relationship(s): Lussuria/Mammon, Implied/Referenced Relationship(s): Hayato/Tsuna, M/M, POV Xanxus, Varia Arc (Reborn!), Varia being Varia, Xanxus being Xanxus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: Namimori is not as Xanxus expects. The glassy expanse in the suburbs is familiar from his own Rage ... but he’s never visited the town. What the fuck?
Relationships: Dino/Xanxus (Reborn!), Superbi Squalo/Everyone
Series: To Surprise a Sun ‘verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843456
Comments: 18
Kudos: 194
Collections: HomeSky/WarSky Fics





	1. Chapter 1

“Hiiiieee!” The tiny ball of fluff that spots him first screeches and dives behind Smoking Bomb - he recognised him from the independent register Mammon had shoved into his brain - and he snorts in amusement. “Scary. Make the scary go away, anata.”

He blinks at the ball of fluff’s impudence, and the way that Smoking Bomb reacts; it’s not consistent with his profile on the kid. He assumes the first swelling burst of Sky Flames is from the ball of fluff, but a second joins it and it’s like looking in a mirror. “Scary, Tsuna-koi?”

“Scary.” The ball of fluff points directly at him, and he smiles, a leonine smile that makes Smoking Bomb twitch and jump to Hyper Dying Will Mode, the little ball of fluff following him into the combat mode. So he had found Iemitsu’s brat; that jump had been far too easy for him to be anything other than Vongola blooded. It was their gift like the Giglio Nero had their foresight. (Some people would claim the Vongola Hyper Intuition, but that was trainable rather than innate. It really was just about things being out of Harmony with the World.)

“Agreed. We’ll be going, thank you, Cielo di Varia. Our argument isn’t with you.”

“But I was having such fun.”

“And we’d prefer our nest be secure _before_ we negotiate.” _Nest_? A pair of Skies woven around each other like that rang warning bells in his head. Shit. What the fuck had his old man thrown him into the middle of?

“Crowding the small animal is forbidden. Violators will be bitten to death. Survivors will be bitten harder.” Cloud Flames billow and flare, deep and rich, possessive and obsessive and so clearly fixated on something connected to the two Skies beneath him that he mourns the waste for a moment. A very dangerous moment given the Cloud’s competence; his shark was going to laugh hysterically at him for the cracked shoulder blade he is now in possession of. 

He ducks the second blow and the third, and pushes into the air, making the Cloud snarl. He probably shouldn’t taunt the teen, but, his instincts drive him to, to see if he could convince the Cloud to drift into his Sky. (Clouds could be tempted, could sometimes cover two, three, even four Skies over their lifetime, but whatever hold the bit of fluff and Smoking Bomb had on the Cloud chasing him was _strong_.) He finally slips away from him as he enters Mammon’s sphere of control, but the Cloud behaves oddly when he vanishes from view; rather than getting turned around, he sniffs the air and paces the edge of the sphere for a few minutes. 

He shakes his head and jumps up to the balcony of his suite, slipping inside, and finding his Rain in the process of brushing out his ridiculously long hair. “Voooiii. You look like you’ve gone three rounds with a bear, shitty-Boss.”

“There’s a Cloud. Pretty and strong. Looks like someone crossed Alaude with a Chinese Princess.” He pauses and allows his lips to curl back into a smile. “I want him.”

“Voooiii. Looking at the way you’re bruised, shitty-Boss, it might be reciprocated.” He snorts and stretches, feeling the way his shoulder resists the movement. “The feminiello’s in the living area, Boss; the miser and the Prince are out getting us all what’s supposed to be fucking fantastic sushi, and Levi’s trying to figure out what the fuck Idiotsu’s currently smoking.”

“Crack, probably. He’s too tacky for it to be anything else.”

“Voooiii, if you want his actual drug of choice, it’s meth. We caught on to his habit last year.”

“Is he trying to pretend to be trailer-trash, shitty-shark?”

“Nah, it’s either his yakuza heritage or the CEDeF itself. They had an issue with it during the war years.” His shark had a point. “Mirch got a hold of it last time it flared up, but she’s not allowed to kick his ass, so he gets away with it. But you know what I mean.”

“Tsch, I knew what you meant. Probably his own coup, using the ball of fluff wandering around town as his puppet. Not that his plan’ll be that simple if he’s a fucking tweaker, unless he’s still rational enough to be letting someone else do the strategic planning.”

“Voooiii. Mammon says Reborn and Fon are both here, but Mirch is in Sicily still. As to local intel, when I twisted Trident Shamal’s arm up behind his back he threatened to emasculate me if I hurt his Sky or his spouse.”

He raises a mental eyebrow. “I thought he was one of Mammon’s … outworkers. And ‘nonmonogamous’.”

“Voooiii. He is, the shitty pervert. Only he dropped out of sight eighteen months ago with his nephew.” 

He flicks through his mental records. “Smoking Bomb? I ran into him before I met the pretty Cloud -“

“- Voooiii, if you’re trying to make me jealous Boss, I’ve seen the Cloud you mean, and he’s Fon’s great-nephew and fixated on something he’s learnt to use his Mist to hide. And given Mammon’s bitching about the brat’s attitude towards their shared Flame when he was younger, it’s his actual territory.”

“Shishishishi. The Prince has bought the _best_ sushi and intelligence, Boss.” His Storm’s head is poked around the door, his grin fairly manic, and one visible eye glittering with its unnatural pupil. “There’s even fugu and otoro.” His Storm glares at his Rain, and he’s confused; he’d thought they had a reasonable working relationship. “If the Commander kills the Prince’s favourite sushi chef, the Prince will kill the Commander very, very slowly so the Commander can _appreciate_ his demise.”

“Voooiii. You can _try_ brat. I’m still the one who spanks you when you fuck up.” He sighs and shakes his head, striding past his shark - still in full rapunzel mode and distracted - and scruffs his Storm as he passes, making the brat prince purr and wriggle in demented glee.

“No eviscerating each other without a Sun present, trash. And why would the shark want to kill your favourite sushi chef?”

“Because the shark-peasant likes wiping out sword-lineages and the prince’s chef is the head of a _major_ one. The Prince recognises imperial blood even when it’s diluted, Boss.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and drops his bratty Storm into the boy’s preferred pile of cushions. There is a truly amazing spread in front of them, covering all the low tables in the living room of the suite, and he whistles lowly.

“Before you dive in, Boss-darling, let me fix that shoulder you’re favouring and do today’s scar mitigation. It’s hungry work after all -“ he scowls at his Sun, but takes the indicated seat between the feminiello’s thighs, and allows them to sink their Flames into him and manipulate his cells gently, coaxing his body to break down the scarring. Bel snatches up an entire tray of sushi while Lussuria works, and he debates firing a warning shot over the brat’s head, but his Sun makes a tutting sound, and pokes a bruise. “- play nice, Boss-darling. His brain chemistry got weird while you were on the ice, and we’ve just been able to wean him off the drugs that were making up for your Flames. They’ve messed with his appetite.” He grumbles and settles down, letting his Sun work on the crack in his shoulder blade.

“Mou. If you get yourself frozen or annihilated like the Estraneo heir, I will arrange for you to be returned as a zombie to work off your debt, Boss.” 

“You’ve got my attention, Mammon. I assume you’ve been talking to the other Arcobaleno?” His Mist nods, and settles next to the brat-prince in the nest of pillows, and pushes back their hood in a display of trust that makes him shive under Lussuria’s hands. “So spill. The Shark told me he’d been threatened by Trident Shamal who has apparently settled down. Which doesn’t compute; last I saw of him Fede was throwing him out of a Vongola Ball for trying to hit on his and Massimo’s dates simultaneously.”

“Voooiii. He threw him out because they agreed to his threesome suggestion, remember, shitty-Boss -“ he snickers, the memory bittersweet. “- and yeah. He’s claiming to be married, shitty-miser.”

“Namimori is home to a mated Sky Pair and at least two juveniles on whom the resident Cloud is fixated, and who annihilated the Estraneo heir and his retinue when they tried to kidnap one of said juveniles. There are approximately two acres of Sky-desolated land outside of town where the Estraneo heir had holed up at the time. It looks like the aftermath of one of your temper tantrums, Boss, only writ permanent. Autumn Rain and his son share the role of Rain to the pair.” Squalo sits bolt upright. 

“The Prince will skin the shark and use the imperial chef’s lessons on the shark’s carcass.” He blankets both his Storm and Rain in his Sky Flames, and they grumble and settle back into place.

“I’m assuming the little ball of fluff and Smoking Bomb are the pair?”

“The Boss’s ‘father’ and Sawada almost certainly do not know about their bond or the juveniles. It is possible they wished to force a mating between the Boss and the ‘little ball of fluff’ to merge the two bloodlines.” Squalo snorts and he raises an eyebrow at his Rain.

“Voooiii! That wouldn’t fucking work if the fluffball’s a Home Sky.”

“Trash -“

“Voooiii. Boss, even before the fucking ice anyone who looked past the ‘murderous Wrath’ could see you weren’t a fucking War Sky. You nest far too fucking readily.” His Rain makes a sweeping gesture, encompassing the suite. “Like fuck your father’s set are sprawled around like this eating dinner.” His shark looks like he’s about to say something else, but then changes his mind and shuts his mouth with a snap.

“You were going to say something, shark-trash?”

“Voooiii. Shitty-Boss. You’ll throw me out the fucking window, and we’re twenty stories up.”

“You land like a fucking cat, and I’ll throw you out of it one way or the fucking other, so spit the words out shark-trash.”

“Fine. I nearly ended up as the Horse’s Rain. He’s a War, even if he doesn’t fucking act like it. Do the fucking math, and bend the fuck over, shitty-Boss.” He moves, Flames amplifying his speed even as his shitty-Shark tries to evade and slow him down, and he wraps his hand around his sleep-braid and throws him through the window with enough force it shatters despite the thickness of the glass and his shark screeches and vanishes out of sight.

“Shishishishi. The shark-peasant is right. If the Boss is a Home, the Boss deserves best available Sky. Cavallone is a better choice than the other available Wars.” His Storm sniffs. “The Horse even has very dilute royal blood.” Mammon leans over and swipes the brat-prince’s crown, and things devolve into a tussle as his Lightning enters the room.

“Report.”

“I’ve pulled back the patrols to Mammon’s boundary. The town is owned, Boss. It’s like being in Cavallone or Superbi territory unwelcomed. There’s a couple of idiots we’ll have to buy back and re-educate; they clearly strayed over some sort of invisible line.” He raises an eyebrow. “They were trying to show initiative, Boss, and went limp when they were pounced on by the local Family. New protocols.”

“What sort of shitty protocols are those?”

“Mou. Going limp means they’re either released or taken back to various bases. It has improved our knowledge of some of the more interesting operations in Italy, and right now, it means I know where they routinely hold prisoners. We’ve made more money this way Boss, from fewer contracts -“

“Tsch. As long as it isn’t costing us good men, or our fucking reputation.” Mammon gives him a flat look that tells him that it’s done neither, at least so far.

“Mou. Interestingly, they’ve been split up. Half are at the police station and half of them are in the school complex.” His Mist pulls a face and waves their hands. “Which means that Fon’s son and grandson are almost certainly splitting the Cloud duties within the pair-set.”

“There’s a Flame Active Cloud in the _police_.”

“Mou. Japan deals with this stuff differently, Boss. And he has a relevant territory that meshes well. He’d be a menace in Italy.” Given the smirk on his Mist’s face, that was probably an understatement. “Speaking of the probable composition of the set, deep-diving into Bel and I’s memories of previous trips to Namimori - for the truly excellent sushi available - indicate that if we’re looking at a doubled Set, then we can identify nine of the twelve possible Guardians.”

“Can the two brats field a full set between them if they’re forced to comply with this farce?” 

“I suspect that any attempts to force them will result in more acres of burnt-glass. They may struggle for a Storm, though it is possible one of the Lightning children is an Electric Storm, or Fon may decide to fill that slot for a chance to show off.”

“Shishishishi. An electric Storm would be fun, and the prince getting to match himself against another prince would _also_ be fun.” 

“Voooiii. Shitty Boss. The Horse is expecting you.” His Rain, looking somewhat exhausted, stomps back into their suite. “As he saw that you'd thrown me out the fucking window, I told him you need a good fucking. He laughed and said _finally_.”

“Shishishishi. The Boss should go get laid. The prince has seen the way the shark walks when the horse is done with him, and if the prince liked cock, the prince would ask to be covered.” He makes a small whining sound at the back of his throat at the way his own are ganging up on him.

“Mou. I can drop you in his lap, Boss.”

“You too, trash?” His Mist wriggles their fingers at him and he shrieks, a sound he’ll deny for a decade, as he drops through Mammon’s Flames and into a bed, on top of a warm, muscled form, whose arms wrap reflexively around him with a pleased sound and Sky Flames that make his purr rather than bristle.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hello, ‘stranger’. I think the last time we met, I hadn’t even hit puberty properly.”

“… was that supposed to be a pick-up line, or just an admission you were a terrified ball of fluff before my father froze me?”

“Both.” The blond under him answers with a laugh. “Now does this mean Squalo was telling me the truth, Xanxus, or do you just need somewhere to hide from your own being mother hens?”

“Have you been fucking my Rain?” The question slips out of his mouth without much conscious thought.

“Squalo? Yeah. It was that or deal with him being as badly behaved as a mare in heat.” One of Cavallone’s hands sneaks under his t-shirt and the feel of whip callouses against one of his more sensitive scars has him squirming. “But I haven’t touched him since he admitted you’d been defrosted. If you need tips on how to make him behave -”

“Tsch. I have my own methods.” The thumb strokes the patch of skin it’s found, and he squirms again, feeling Cavallone harden underneath him.

“I saw. What did you do, throw him out of the window?”

“Yeah. But I warned the shitty-shark first. They all seem to think we should fuck, Cavallone. That you’re the best option for me -”

“- I’m not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed.”

“Your cock says you’re interested.” Cavallone laughs.

“Squalo is a tease. He told me he thought I should stick my cock in your ass and see if it did anything for your mood, and I was already fantasising about you and I double-dicking him. I figured that was the only way I was going to get my cock back in his tight ass and you’d _actually_ tolerate me in bed with the two of you.”

“Tsch, given the feel of the cock under my ass, I’d be surprised if it was tight still.” 

“We could experiment; I’ve gotten good at sticking it in tight places over the years. Want me to see if I can get in _your_ ass?” He squirms, and Cavallone smiles, slow and wicked. “I’ll take that as a yes. Will you bitch if I roll us over and start working you over _properly_?”

“As long as you don’t make me bite a fucking pillow.”

“Does it count if you do voluntarily?”

“Tsch. Just fucking do it, Cavallone.”

Cavallone shifts and he fights himself not to lash out or relax. His Rain trusts the man now over him enough to yield to him sexually. He can try and do the same; he’s curious. “Are you going to bite me if I kiss you?”

“Tsch. Don’t treat me like a fucking woman, Cavallone.”

“Mmm. I wouldn’t be so confident I’d be able to get my cock in a woman, Xanxus. But I know _exactly_ how to break a man’s ass to take it.” He shivers at the way Cavallone’s voice drops into something close to a purr. “And I promise, you’ll enjoy every moment of me teaching you to _crave_ cock.”

“Big words -” Sky Flames ripple out from the man over him, rich and deep and wide, far more impressive than he’d expected; he thought that some of what had driven his Rain to the blond had been familiarity. He didn’t have that buffer, but the soaring vastness of that Cloudy Sky and the way it was singing to him was a siren’s song. He’d thought that the bratty Cloud running around tempted him, but he wanted to wrap himself up in the Flames flooding the room and never let go.

The Flames crawl over his skin, and he shivers and whines a little at the back of his throat. “- yeah, there was a reason I was kicking against everything, Xanxus. What happens when you try and force a Cloud to do _anything_?” He makes an apologetic sound, and then the reality of his position, naked, under another man, one in possession of a cock that makes _him_ feel inadequate registers and his Sky flares, prickly and angry, and he expects the blond over him to flinch. But Cavallone doesn’t. “You going to flee if I lift off you enough to grab the lube? I’ve got enough Mist to improvise -”

“Tsch. I’m not a coward, Cavallone. I asked you to stick your fucking cock in me so just fucking _do it_.” The blond snorts, lifting off him and rummaging in a bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and something else.

“Where’s the fun in that, Xanxus? I’m going to shove your cock down my throat, first, and see if it’s as much fun to suck as Squalo’s is.” He throws one arm over his eyes and whines. “Do your scars hurt, or feel good when played with, by the way?”

“If it hurts, I’m sure you’ll realise when I try to fucking kill you.” Cavallone shakes his head and slides down the bed, nudging his legs apart and settling between them. 

“Feel free to pull on my hair, Xanxus. I like it. And I like being face-fucked, too.” He raises a skeptical eyebrow at the blond, who grins at him, and ducks his head, and swallows his cock without any further warning. The other Sky’s mouth is hot, the peril of his teeth arousing, and shit, he had fucking stamina. He really fucking did. 

No, he didn’t. His orgasm crashes over him with casual abruptness, nothing like the weak things he’d dragged from himself over the past three months since he escaped the ice. 

Cavallone lifts his head and licks his lips. “Short-fused? I hope you’ve got a refractory period to match your physical age at least, Xanxus, or you’re going to have an interesting time keeping up with my sex drive.” He splutters and the blond grins at him. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell as long as you don’t.” A slick finger slides easily past the pleasure-relaxed guardian muscle that’s supposed to stop that sort of shit, and his skin heats as he realises he really is going to let Cavallone take him.

One finger quickly becomes two, both slick, as Cavallone takes his soft cock back into his mouth and suckles on it in a filthy fashion that has him whining and desperately hard, ready to promise the blond _anything_ if only he sucks a little harder, bobs his head a little faster, and shit, where had the lanky colt he’d met all of six months ago in his personal timeline learnt to give head like a _pro_?! 

Cavallone pulls off his cock with an indecent sound and grins at him. “Okay, we can work with that length of fuse if you’re so quick to return to the ‘ready’ position.” The fingers in his ass curve in punctuation and he swears as more fire runs up his spine. “I’m going to finish sucking you off, and stick my cock in when you’re nice and relaxed. Try not to scream _too_ loud unless you want witnesses. Romario’s twitchy given everything; of course if you want this to be an orgy -” he flushes, and Cavallone shuts himself up by swallowing his cock with indecent competence, burying it in his own throat and kissing the base of his cock in a single smooth motion before humming and pressing at something in his ass that makes everything fucking phenomenal.

His orgasm lashes through him again, and he feels the weight of the Cloudy Sky driving it to burn hotter and last longer, and he shrieks something incoherent at the searing agony-ecstasy, opening his eyes to Cavallone over him and a thick hard _hot_ intrusion into his ass. “Why does it feel so fucking good, Cavallone? Shoving something the size of your cock into my ass that fast should have hurt -”

“So skeptical.” Cavallone kisses his nose and rolls his hips. “It _should_ have taken longer, but I was impatient and testing a hypothesis.” He glares at the blond who looks sheepish. “You trust Squalo, right?”

“Yeah. I trust my shitty-shark.” Cavallone keeps rolling his hips, sending confused waves of sensation sparking along his nerves; his cock was definitely soft and not yet involved, yet there was a _lot_ of pleasure ebbing and flowing through him.

“Then let me give you somewhere to Nest. I know it’s the wrong way round, but fuck -” he looks at Cavallone in confusion and the blond dips his head and presses kiss to his jaw bone. “- open your Flames to me, Xanxus. Let me show you just how good this can be.” He hesitates, but shit, he’d let the blond impale him on his cock, and it had felt good, just the way he had promised and Cavallone was Cloudy; he wouldn’t use the moment to bind him in an unequal way. And his shark trusts him. Cavallone sees something in his eyes and resumes slowly fucking him; it sounds obscene, every motion slick and easy, his body compliant and pleased with the way the blond’s using it.

He reaches for the calm Squalo represents to _him_ \- it was there at his core if you knew how deep to dive - and unfurls his Flames _properly_. Spreads his Flames out in mimicry of the way Cavallone has spread his, and twitches as rather than rub abrasively, they start to mesh with alarming speed.

Cavallone’s eyes go dark, swirling with what his intuition tells him is his actual Flame rather than the pale nonsense he projects in public, and his hips snap, driving his cock in deep and hard over and over again until the only thing he can do is dig his nails into the man’s shoulders and to try to find as much pleasure as he can in whatever it is that’s driven his bedmate so close to a feral rage. 

(And there’s a lot of pleasure to be found; Cavallone’s cock feels enormous as it shifts inside him, every stroke rubbing and poking at the sweet spot that he’d fingered, his own Flames dancing in glee.)

“You’re going to cum for me again, aren’t you Xanxus? You’re going to clamp down sweet and tight around my cock, and let me give you the one thing your Flames have been craving for god knows how long.” He nods, blindly, unwilling to fight the waves of Flames so sweet and hot and _his_. 

He screams as the waiting Flames pour into him, curling in his gut and he cums for the third time, his cock still soft but everything so fucking _good_. Cavallone collapses on top of him, clearly pleased with himself, his cock still buried inside his now throbbing ass and grins at him, dopily. 

“There you are. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?” He looks at the other man, puzzled. “I figured out that you were likely my Home _one week_ after the Cradle Affair. Then Mammon dropped Squalo in my lap and told me to fuck him functional again.” His muscles spasm slightly around the cock in his ass, trembling, and the man on top of him rocks his hips, and he moans in unabashed pleasure at the intense sensation. “Traditionally, really traditionally, the War uproots to protect the Home -” Cavallone nips at his lower lip, stealing a kiss, “- but I think that we might have to beat back tradition just once, Home-mine. Because I think you’ll like what I’ve done with the Cavallone far better than you’ll appreciate raising a brood in the middle of Tsunayoshi and Hayato’s unsubtle vengeance.”

“A _brood_?!”

“Well, given what your Flames have, uh, allowed to take root, I was assuming you wanted a large family.” He feels his own eyes go wide in terror and something else that he doesn’t really want to have to examine too closely. “I’d expected one, not three.”

“I hadn’t expected any, shitty-Horse.” Cavallone looks at him, confused.

“I thought - Squalo knew. Mammon dropped you here - fuck.” The cock inside him stills and he whines at the back of his throat. He wants to know what’s happening, but he wants more of the diffuse and desperate pleasure that having his ass fucked with Cavallone’s enormous weapon. He hates that, but he doesn’t and the conflict makes everything so much more intense. “Fuck. I thought you knew and wanted it all. How could you _not_ know -”

“My shitty old man apparently continues to be a shitty old man.”

“Ah.” Cavallone fucking nuzzles against his throat, and for some reason it’s actually _soothing_. “Sky Pairs can conceive. It’s not dependent on gender and you’re not going to show particularly; just, um, be a bit tired and your Flames tied up for a while. You might want to ask my little brother for more detail. He’s already been through the whole process once.” He twitches at the comment about his Flames being tied up for a while.

“Did you do this so he’d win -”

“He’s um, carrying at the minute, too. He and Hayato got carried away after they rescued their twins, and weren’t the ones who chose now for the battles, Xanxus.” He grumbles and tries to squeeze down on the cock in his ass, to encourage Cavallone to move. “Mammon could probably put them in some sort of suspension temporarily? Shamal was speculating it was possible for the War or a bonded Guardian to supoort them for brief periods.” 

“Fucking fine. Just shut up and fuck me again. Apparently your new job is to keep me feeling fucking good, Cavallone, so get on with it.” The blond laughs and starts to shift, pulling back and slamming in, a deep, punishing thrust that has him scrabbling at his shoulders and his Flames purring and sparking with pleasure. “Yeah, keep that up. You can go fucking Cloudy again too, if you want. That was fucking fun, shitty-Horse.”

“I told you that you’d like it when I slid it inside you, didn’t I?” Cavallone kisses him and he allows it this time, the blond grinding into his body slow and deep. “Now picture the two of us ganging up on Squalo like this. A cock in both ends to keep him quiet, or both in his greedy ass -” 

“The second isn’t going to keep my shitty-shark quiet.” 

“True, but think how hot and tight he’d be.” He shivers, and the blond grins.

“Your Guardians going to get jealous, shitty-Horse?”

“Only if you stop them inviting me into their beds for a little spice. They’re paired off, but all of them like a third from time to time.” He hmphs, and tries the muscle clenching thing again, and the Horse bucks like he’d done something hot, so he repeats it, and the purple-orange tinge starts to reappear in the other Sky’s eyes. “Anyone other than Squalo on your side in desperate need of regular cock?”

“You’d have to ask the shark to be sure. He’s been the one managing them; I think the miser and the pervert have an arrangement. Not sure the brat has actually ‘done’ puberty yet, and my Lightning -” Cavallone nods. 

“We’ll figure it out.” The Horse steals another kiss. “So can I turn you over and bugger you properly? It’ll make your sweet spot even more vulnerable to my cock.”

He eyes the blond skeptically. “You’re up to something.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be _your_ War if I wasn’t. But you liked my cock up your ass, so trust me that you’ll like this, too.” He grumbles, the sound sliding into a whine as Cavallone pulls out and sits back, showing off the ridiculous thing he’d shoved into his ass. Hands on his hips coax him over, and shove a couple of pillows under his hips, his legs shoved wide and he’s just about to complain when Sky-flame coated fingers rub against his rim. They feel good enough that he melts into the bed, and his own Flames ebb and flow and pool within the Cloudy cover Cavallone’s providing, singing with his enjoyment of what the other Sky’s doing to his body. 

Cavallone shifts on the bed behind him, and then he hisses in pleasure as the blond slides achingly slowly back into his ass, enjoying it despite his curiosity as to what the fuck the man’s up to. 

“Get your knees underneath you, and let me mount you properly, Xanxus. I want you fucking yourself back onto my cock in desperation. That’s how I’ll know I’m doing this _right_.” He hmphs again, but obliges; the way his War’s cock had felt when it had slid back into him had been fucking amazing. “So good for me. I think this is going to work out _fantastically_.” Cavallone starts to move, rolling his hips, fucking him with long measured strokes, ones that tug at his rim, torment his prostate and penetrate him so deep that he can feel his gut shifting to permit it. The strokes drive deeper and deeper, his body feeling more and more stretched and he whines in pleasure and realisation of what he’d asked for; he’d told him to _be_ Cloudy, and he had a Cloud fucking his ass and gods damn it, he was enjoying it far too fucking much.

“Fuck, Cavallone. How big is your fucking cock right now? I can’t fucking _breathe_.”

“Just big enough, apparently.” The retort is punctuated by a snap of the hips that drives the blond’s cock even deeper into his ass. “You wanted me Cloudy. Regretting it?”

“Fuck no. Does being this, whatever the fuck this is, stop other shit, like you being my fucking Cloud, Cavallone? Because it fucking feels like you want the role -” Cavallone laughs and nips at the back of his neck, making him arch and shift on the fucking _log_ shoved up his ass. “- I need a fucking Cloud Officer. We can make up a fake name, let you rampage without ruining that pretty façade. You and Squalo’d have fun being murderous together.”

“Mmmm. Maybe. It’d certainly be fun to wrap my whip around certain throats. I’ll just take payment in your orgasms though.” He snorts. 

“You’ll get those anyway at the rate you’re fucking going. You’ve fucked me soft and it still feels good.” Cavallone nips at the back of his neck again and rolls his hips.

“Then Mammon will be happy to tolerate my presence.”

“My Mist doesn’t _happily_ do anything, but I know what you mean.” Cavallone makes an amused sound and then shifts, resuming driving into him properly, rocking into his ass hard and fast and deep until the air really is being punched out of his lungs and something inside aches in a way that shouldn’t feel good. The blond keeps going, relentless, hammering at every sweet spot he can find, making him purr as waves of diffuse, deep pleasure roll through him.

It rolls on and on and on, relentless waves that eat at his sanity and he can feel something bigger - like one of Mammon’s major workings - building and building and building under the waves and he whines and bucks back onto the cock impaling him. The bubble bursts, their combined Sky Flames bursting out of them in a brilliant explosion that burns along every nerve he has and he shudders and passes out at least briefly. He comes back around empty, Cavallone wrapped around him, and he feels limp and exhausted but very, very sated. Even Cavallone must be sated; he can feel his soft cock pressed against his hole, teasing and tantalising but not insisting.

“There are other advantages to Skies pairing off, Xanxus. Though the one we just managed wasn’t in the family journals; I’ll have to make sure Hayato and Tsuna know given Hayato’s medical issues.” He blinks, and makes a confused sound. “Your ice-scars are gone. Which is probably just as well? Most of them didn’t seem to have any feeling -” He mumbles something; for weird Sky Flame side effects, that wasn’t nearly as fucked up as the ball of sparks behind his navel. “- even if I’m going to miss the one that I was stroking to distract you earlier.”

“Tsch. Shut up and be warm. I need some sleep, and I’m still having ice-nightmares.” 

“I’d be happy to.” He feels the kiss pressed to the back of his head. “Can I rebind some of your feathers for you later? I have some Flame conductive horse-hair that’ll make them more useful -” He flares his Flames, and Cavallone shuts up, radiating sleep and calm at him, and he fades into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you going to stop pining now, Boss?” He yawns, and fingers slide into his mouth pressing against his tongue and he’s half tempted to bite on them, but he feels too good to deliberately inflict pain on his War right now. He suckles on them lazily, and Cavallone’s cock hardens, heating against his skin, and he actually blushes.

“Well, given I’ve gotten everything I was pining _for_ , I’d say yes. And careful, husband, or I’ll mount you right now in front of my Sun.” He sucks harder, and Cavallone drags his fingers out of his mouth and shoves him over onto his front, sheathing himself in one harsh thrust that actually has him biting a pillow to suppress his scream. “Warned you.”

“If you’re in that sort of mood, maybe I should set some furniture up in the communal area, Boss.”

“Mmm. Not unless you’re concealing a gagged Squalo on the other side of the door; if you are, go ahead.” He snorts. He isn’t really in the mood for exhibitionism either; he’s the sort of mellow that normally takes a couple of bottles of rum to achieve, and he wants to enjoy it for a little bit longer. Another few rounds would do for starters

“I’m fairly sure your bedmate agrees on gagging his Rain at least, Boss. There’s breakfast out here, but I suspect you’d rather ‘eat’ your pretty new wife.” He sticks a finger up in the Sun’s vague direction, making Cavallone laugh.

“Would you blame me for skipping breakfast?”

“No, but I’m a mother hen with a single chick so you won't stop me asking, Boss.” His War rocks his hips, and the friction makes him squirm at how good it feels.

“You’re going to have a whole brood to watch over in nine months or so. Apparently my Home subconsciously craves a _big_ family.” He buries his head in his pillow at the words, and his War presses a kiss to his shoulder blade. But it actually a relief to know there was _one_ of their Guardians liked caretaking so he wouldn’t have to try and find some maternal instincts somewhere. “We’ll come out eventually, I promise, ’Maro. If Tsuna arrives, come and tell us, or if Squalo appears and can’t settle -.”

There’s a snort and then the sound of a door closing. 

“I thought you were going to try and immolate ’Maro there for a moment, Xan.” He mumbles something, tensing experimentally around the cock in his ass. “I know I teased you about a public claiming, but I suspect you’d rather keep it to sharing Squalo for the moment.” 

“How the fuck do you fuck him without him biting?”

Cavallone - he should start calling him Dino or husband, or some sort of gooey shit in his head - snickers. “Mist Flames, or there’s a fucking fantastic gag Bono designed. When you’re fucking your partner’s face, it stops them biting; when you aren’t, you can lock a dildo in it to make them practise or suffer. Squalo has a love-hate-love relationship with it, and ’Maro knows it and _enjoys_ surprising him with an increase in the size of the dildo.” He cackles. He can just picture the moment that led up to his War’s men creating that for his Rain. “I’m sure he’ll make you one if you think it might be fun, but I’m entirely content to just ravish your arse.”

“Save it for my loud-mouthed Rain.” Dino laughs, and rolls his hips, the friction still hot and dry and intense. “Have you permanently broken my ass or something? You just stuck your cock in it.”

“Less broken and more - well, we’re Skies, and it wouldn’t be harmonious if I couldn’t make you feel good. It wouldn’t work for anyone else. Pairs can’t really hurt each other.” Which was good to fucking know, but not getting him fucked. 

“Shut up and fuck me, Cavallone. I want more fucking pleasure, and your cock’s apparently the medium of choice.” His War laughs.

“Better than the bottles of brandy Squalo bitches about having to dodge.” He mumbles something and Cavallone starts to move properly, screwing him with long deep thrusts that make him squirm and buck in desperation. “Because I’d really rather you drank a little less, at least while sparking, caro. If that means I need to fuck you senseless five or more times a day, we can do that.” 

He doesn’t answer; he has no idea how Cavallone has enough self-control - or breath - to be talking at him as well as ploughing his ass like it’s his _job_. His nerves burn; his muscles quiver, an orgasm already threatening to roll over him, and all he can do is drag breath after breath into his lungs and spread his legs wider so Cavallone’ll keep hammering his cock against his prostate. The bubble pops and he shrieks, biting the pillow in unashamed desperation as he cums _hard_.

“Fuck, that feels good. Do it again? You’re squeezing my cock so sweetly -” he whines; he can’t figure out how to voluntarily squeeze the cock up his ass hard enough for it to _register_ given its size, which means his War wants him to cum again. Wants him to shriek into the pillow and _bite_ it. “- fatter, faster, deeper, harder? What’s going to make you make that pretty noise again and milk my cock? I’d ask about more sparks, but even I think you’ve got enough right now - and I am _fully_ intent on bribing you into giving ‘Maro a whole herd to dote on.” 

He whines, and Cavallone slides one hand underneath him, finding and stroking his cock and ramming into him bruisingly hard even as he hears an indignant cut off ‘Vooooooo-’ through the door and he gives his War exactly what he wants and is rewarded with stuttering hips and painfully hot cum shot so deep into his gut he’d swear he can taste it.

He lifts his head once he’s caught his breath, and Cavallone’s the one that whines this time. It’s a nice reversal of trends. “Can’t we just go back to sleep? Romario and Bono adore playing with Squalo. And he’s far more fun to fuck when he’s had time to settle in, relax and remember he’s going to stay stuffed however much he complains. Well, unless he safe words.” He snorts.

“I want to see my shark quiet; it’s got to be quite the fucking sight.” Cavallone laughs.

“Oh, it is.” Cavallone lifts off his back. “Shall we go and take a look and see if he’s relaxed enough to play with or if he needs some time to warm up first? ‘Maro did say there was food somewhere in the suite, too.” A thumb rubs over his hard-used and sensitive rim before he can roll over. “Want something in this sweet little hole of yours to keep it warm and full for later?”

“Tsch. Only if I can shove something equally oversized in yours later.” His answer comes in the form of something fairly chunky being pushed into his body, and he squirms, clenching around it. “Fuck, where was that lurking?”

“There’s a Mist pocket under the pillow. And it’s probably not as big as you think it is; your body will snap back fairly fast from me fucking it; another perk from the bond. Squalo needs Romario - or Lussuria - to bounce back from a weekend as our fucktoy.” He rolls over, whining as the fat piece of silicone in his ass prods his prostate and nudges another weird spot that makes him want to stroke himself. “C’mon. You wanted to see your Rain all tied up.”

It’s a very pretty sight. Squalo’s hair - he’s still not used to the thigh-length silvery mass - hangs loose in a curtain of rippling silver, and Cavallone’s Sun is clearly making thorough use of his Rain’s mouth; there’s filthy, wet, _eager_ sounds, and he makes a small aroused sound at the sight.

“Having fun, ’Maro?”

“He’s quiet and sucking. Of course I’m enjoying myself, Boss. I haven’t even had to put his gag in yet.”

Cavallone snickers. “He must be in an odd mood. He normally bites within the first few minutes of being fucked without it. Let him up, ’Maro. His Sky wants to see him, and he should get the full, debauched effect and a turn if he wants it.” His War’s Sun steps aside and he swallows; his Rain looks serene in a way that he’s only seen him in combat, lips rosy and swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes shut and _quiet_.

“He hasn’t even got something in his ass yet, Boss.” Romario tilts his head to him. “Want to pick out what to shove in him, Heir Vongola?” 

“Shit, I’m not my old man. Just call me Xanxus. You’re clearly my War’s senior fucking guardian, and mine trusts you so much he seems to have fucking gone to sleep -” He steps over to his shark, who barely reacts - only his Flames, curling gently, latch onto his - and he runs a finger over Squalo’s puffy lips, triggering a blind attempt to suck on them. It’s creepy and cute simultaneously, but if it works for his shark - which it clearly _did_ , like Mammon and Luss’s thing - who was he to say no. “- give me his gag. I want to see what he can take, and fucking him without it is probably lethal.”

Romario laughs and chucks him a complicated mist and silicone construct and it takes him a moment to realise how it’s supposed to work. It’s ingenious, and he slides it into his shark’s mouth, watching it turn a puffy-lipped closed mouth into an inviting and highly fuckable hole. “Going to use it yourself, Master Xanxus, or want something to slide inside? His toy-case is on the sideboard.” 

“Nah, get me the biggest thing that’ll go in his mouth. I want to see what he can take, and then your Don can bugger me while I bugger him.” Romario hands him something that makes his eyes water, his ass throb and his jaw ache just looking at it. “He won’t suffocate on it?”

“Amusingly, he sucks it with his Dying Will. He even broke out a secondary Flame when we first started training him.” He snorts and feeds it into his shark’s mouth, watching the awareness return in his Rain’s eyes, and the indignant flush blooming across his cheekbones.

“You should have realised this would end up happening, trash. But I think it’s cute, so if this is how you get off, I’ll just have to take advantage. And allow my War’s set take advantage. They’ve clearly both enjoyed taking care of you while I was gone, and done a _fantastic_ job of it.” Squalo’s eyes are blue and brilliant, rimmed with a purplish hue that makes him snort. “So suck on that, and I’ll bugger you, and then we’ll discuss what the fuck is going on and how to negotiate with the fluffy little Sky pair. I’m not nesting in the fucking Varia castle. Not after the blond idiot’s most recent Stupidity.” His shark can’t answer him, not with the amount of silicone he’s forced down his throat, but Cavallone wraps himself around his back, hand splaying across his belly.

“He’ll be dead soon enough; even when he is, I’d still rather you Nested in my territory, Xanxus.”

“Tsch. I grew up thinking the Iron Fort would be mine, shitty-Horse. Your fluffy little brother needs to show me he can take care of it.” Cavallone twitches, hauling him closer, and that’s really fucking telling, but he’d rather concentrate on getting his cock wet in his Rain over probing what the fuck was going on in his War’s head. That could wait for when he had the man pinned to a bed. “You opened him up, Romario, or -?”

His answer comes in the form of a thrown tube of lube and he coats his cock in it, the fluid cold and tingly, but he’s got a silicone teaser pressing at his prostate _just_ right, so he ain’t getting soft unless he takes it out. “He’s well-trained. Between the boss buggering him into compliance, and the rest of us using him as a doll to play with - at his invitation - he can take anything you want to do to him.”

“Sheathe yourself in him, Home-mine. Tell me how good he feels on your cock, how sweetly his ass milks it, and tell me when you’re ready for my cock in place of that little piece of silicone teasing your prostate.” He swats at his War, but Cavallone’s grown two-foot, and bulked up, and the action just makes him laugh. 

His Rain’s ass - he shuts his eyes and savours every millimetre of hot tightness, digging his hand into Squalo’s hips to hold him still for his achingly slow penetration. He whines, and there are sounds of amusement from the other two men in the room. “Now stroke his cock. You’ll like the response, -” he follows the Sun’s instruction, and his Rain shudders and whines, and clenches around his cock. (It takes him a moment to realise that the muscle twitches match the speed he’s stroking the swordsman.)

He rocks his hips and strokes his Rain’s cock and tries to process the sensations; just before he thinks he’s got a grip on how to not come embarrassingly quickly, Cavallone tugs the slim teaser out of his arse, tightens him up, and shoves in. He shrieks and slams into his shark in response, setting off Squalo’s orgasm, and he whines as he teeters on the edge, too; his Rain’s ass grows impossibly hotter and tighter as he cums, and Cavallone feels fucking enormous thanks to the unsubtle Flame use. “Shall I go Cloudy again, pretty Home-mine? Everyone will love to see you cum-bloated -” 

“Fuck it. Yes.” Cavallone laughs and nips at his shoulder gently, hands holding his hips tightly, and fucks him slow and easy, Flames curling and pooling in the same way as they had earlier when he’d been stuffed impossibly full. “Just get on with it and fuck mel, Cavallone.”

“Oh, I will. I’m going to make you an extension of my cock and use you to fuck our lovely shark senseless.” He shivers and Cavallone nips him a little harder. “If you think he looks good like this, you should see how good he looks when we eat ‘nyotaimori’ style.” 

“Given how he’s behaving, I could arrange it, Boss. Tsuyoshi’s already expected a finalised order for us in an hour or so, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s served dinner on Squalo. He doesn’t fuck him as payment anymore, but given his new playmate, I’m not surprised.”

“Do it.” Cavallone’s voice is soft. “My Home deserves _everything_ , ’Maro.” He flushes, and the fingers of one of the blond’s big, whip calloused hands press into his mouth. “You do, Xanxus. Let me spoil you; you carry my heirs, and I’ve _missed_ you sorely for the last ten years.” 

He shapes his words carefully, aware of the way the fingers in his mouth will make him slur otherwise: “Trash, you’re being fucking soppy. Just fuck me, damnit.” 

“And if I say no?” The fingers slide out of his mouth, and slide down, cool and slick to check he’s properly embedded in his shark’s arse, and then his War shifts, rocking into his body and forcing him further into their shark, and he relaxes, letting the now-older Sky take over as he’s filled and stroked simultaneously. “What would you do if I didn’t fuck you the way you wanted, Xan. Would you shove me down and ride my cock, or would you stomp off and offer my pretty hole to Idiotsu? He’s the only other War who could possibly offer you what you want right now.”

“I wouldn’t fuck him with someone else’s strap-on.” Cavallone snorts, and grabs the swing straps, forcing him to step forward, and his cock deep into his shark. (His hot, tight, adorably slutty shark, who he’d be using as an overnight cock-warmer now he knew he was so fucking needy. At least when the Horse wasn’t mounting him. Or using him as a cock-warmer. He’s not sure he’d mind too much.) Cavallone fucks like a demon, competent and demanding, his cock pistoning in and out of his arse - which should hurt, damnit; his ass had been greedily swallowing what had to be a foot of cock for _hours_ \- slamming him into his shark with ruthless and efficient speed. He’s fucked straight through another orgasm, his shark’s slick, tight hole enough to keep him hard and he yelps as he briefly passes through too sensitive and back into ‘fuck, this is fun, I have seven years to catch up on’ territory.

When Cavallone cums and pulls out, he flops forwards onto Squalo, making everyone watching snort in amusement. “Damn that’s a good look on you, Vongola. Well fucked and dripping the Boss’s cum is _the_ look for your ass is this season. I’d ask for a taste, but the Boss looks dangerously Cloudy, so wanna fuck, Bono?”

“Later. Why don’t you just use Squalo for now, Tomas; I think our Bosses are done with him for the minute, and you know what he’s like if he’s allowed to be empty long enough to come to.” He laughs, and Dino lifts him off his Rain, his soft cock sliding out of the swordsman and the drip-drip of cum has him shivering. Squalo looks out of it, but in a deeply satisfied way, and shows no signs of objecting to another cock replacing his. In fact, when the Lightning slides into his swordsman, a happy sigh slips his disturbingly quiet Rain’s mouth.

“We’ve spent seven years teaching him to relax and just enjoy being fucked. He trusts us. Trusts we won’t hurt him, and that we can get him back to ‘normal’ in under three minutes. In return, he’s quiet for us, and we can use his ass as much as we please. Do you have any objections to our arrangement with him?”

“Fuck no. You said you’d stopped while I was defrosted; if that’s why he’s been being a whiny little bitch, fucking him needs to be a daily thing. I’m tempted to say he can sleep in a fucking public-use harness if it makes him chill out like this.” He liked his shark (appropriately) loud, and he liked to fight and fuck his shark but the other shit was pissing him off, and if being used hard and kept sloppy and wet worked, it worked. And it was too much like hard work to do all the fucking himself, so if his War’s own wanted to do it for him, he wasn’t going to object.

Dino’s Lightning laughs, and fucks his shark, using the swing to set up a brutal place that sounds obscene and filthy, accompanied by faint happy sounds from Squalo, and Cavallone drags him over to one of the deep chairs, and he snorts as he realises how he’s supposed to sit. “Going to object? Your hole feels damn good stretched around my cock and no one here’s going to complain about watching you slide down it again.”

“You going to whine if I take it slow and easy on the slide down?”

“As long as your arse ends up swallowing my cock, you can go as slow as you want.” He shakes his head and tries something - he blames their accidental removal of his scars - and flushes as he feels his War’s cum absorb into his system. “What did you just do, Xan?”

“My Flames have a fucking mind of their own right now. Just hold your fucking cock steady.” Cavallone laughs but obliges, and he spears himself on the enormous thing cautiously. His muscles resist, but he’s determined, and it slides inside his body slow and easy; his thighs quake as he fucks himself on it and damn, he needed to up his gym-time. Or use his damn War for his intended purpose. Doing his squats with a cock up his ass could definitely be fun. Even though he’d been virgin tight, Cavallone’s right; he’s spontaneously slick and stretching like an experienced whore as he eases himself down the man’s cock. “Fuck. You were right. You really can just stick your dick in my ass raw and it’ll take it.” He collapses down into his War’s lap, whining as he’s fully impaled and Dino laughs, softly.

“It’s a perk. For both of us. Imagine how frustrated you’d get if I had to manually open you for my cock _every_ time you needed fucked back into a better mood.” He shudders. “If you had to wait half an hour or more while I coaxed your ass to dilate and your curve to straighten, and then you could only tolerate ten or twenty minutes of hard use, we’d both end up cranky, wouldn’t we?” Fuck, he wouldn’t just be cranky, he’d be teaching everyone within range that thwarting his Flame type was just as Stupid as thwarting a Cloud. “Imagine having to beg Mammon to help you take a cock the way we’ve trained Squalo to over the years …” 

“Just fuck me, Cavallone.” 

“Happily.” He can feel the Cloud Flames trickling into his War’s muscles and the man’s smugness as he lazily uses his ass like it’s his personal fleshlight. It feels weirdly good, though he’ll have to take his revenge later. If Cavallone thought he wasn’t going to get fucked, he’d show him. He could just visualise all that lovely tan flesh with its pretty tattoos spread out for him and the tight hole he’d force his cock into; it might even be totally unused. He shivers and clenches, and Cavallone murmurs something that he’s sure is praise in his ear as he cums on the man’s thick cock. 

Something’s lobbed at him and he catches it reflexively, confused as to why a blanket’s been thrown at him; he raises an eyebrow at his Sky’s Sun. “Yamamoto’s coming up with the sushi; the Boss is going to get pissy if someone outside our collective set sees your cock or hole right now.” He snorts, but spreads the blanket over the arms of the chair they’re sat in so nothing’s visible. 

“Someone hose our dinner platter off; you know Yamamoto’s rules.” Mist Flames ripple and pour over his shark, leaving him clean and prickly-feeling, like when his shark was roused before he was ready, so he wraps him in his Flames, making him settle down again, just in time for a fucking familiar swordsman to wander into the room with a dozen bento stacked precariously in his hands. (There had to be some fucking Flame trickery going on.)

“You look like you’re having fun, Cavallone-sama.”

“I am. May I introduce my Home, Yamamoto-san?”

“We’ve met. Around a decade ago, before my wife died and Xanxus-kun took over the Varia.” The man smiles and shakes his head when he spots his shark in his sling. “You look more at peace with yourself, Xanxus. Is your partner treating you well?” The cock still firmly sheathed in his ass twitches, and he squirms a little. “I’ll take that as a yes. Mist-san?” One of his War’s men who he vaguely recognises waves. “I assume I’m serving on the individual in the swing, ne?” 

“Yes, please, Yamamoto-san.”

“Then if the Mist in the room would shift the pretty platter onto a firmer surface, this one would be very appreciative.” He rolls his eyes and Cavallone tugs him into leaning back into his body as Bono floats him over to the low table, extending it, and then lightly ‘sticking’ his shark to it. (And someone in the room grows two thick wooden ‘hook’ that would take Squalo quite some time to extricate himself from.) “You’ve been playing hard, judging by the size of those accessories.”

“Only as hard as my Home’s sword _likes_ to be played with.” The sushi-chef swordsman shakes his head in amusement and deftly lays out the food he’s brought with an eye that’s clearly expert, and a touch of Mist, though he’s not sure whether it’s his War’s Mist helping or the chef has a well trained secondary. Given that he’s an assassin who has survived to (mostly) retire - he’s clearly kept up his training - it’s probably the man’s own. (If he didn’t already have a Rain, he’d be sorely tempted to try and seduce him into his set; a wily older Guardian to be the voice of reason had their definite uses.) “You feel avaricious, Xan; do you have a taste for swordsmen?”

“They tend to be masters of their weapons, or so I’m told.” Cavallone laughs harder than he’d expected, Cloudy-Sky leaking out to fill the room thick and heavy; the Guardians in the room shiver, and make small needy noises, and he’s unashamed that he cums dry in response.

“And what do they say about horsemen, Xan?”

“That they make good riders.” His War nips at him in gentle reproach. “Though I might revise that to ‘they share their endowment with their mounts’. It’s as good an explanation as any for why you’re so big.” 

Cavallone laughs, and nips at his ear. “There’s a favourite family legend about Epona. Our cocks are supposedly both a reward for looking after her herds so well and an adaption so we can please her. And I do like to ride, so don’t revise the saying too quickly; I’m sure I’ll end up riding you into the mattress at some point.”

“Cavallone-dono, unless you _actually_ wish me to take offence at the poaching attempt, I need you to get your Flames back under control; I have two Skies, and am rather fond of both of them and my husband.” His War coaxes him into twisting for a kiss, and the Flames drain out of the room as they’re poured into him, instead. It leaves him feeling like his skin’s too small and he’s so goddamn close to cumming. “I still have lunch to serve, tenjō-dono; if your Mist throws up a barrier, and I promise not to peek, may I suggest fucking your Home rather than trying to tempt me?” Cavallone laughs, and he finds himself being absently fucked by his War, hips rolling and whip-calloused hand stroking his cock and he relaxes into the warmth and the Flames calm under his skin. (His skin still feels like it’s a size too small, but it isn’t going to split. Probably. The sparks swell and he whines in confusion, but his War shushes him. He shuts his eyes and lets himself be _consumed_.)

He leans back against his War’s shoulder, the cock in his ass softening, and he makes an unhappy sound that has Romario chuckling and retrieving something from the counter where Squalo’s toy-case sat. The Sun hands it to his War, and he makes a squeak he’ll deny when the fat plug is shoved into his wet hole. It does make his body feel better, but he’s still a little indignant about _that_.

“Tsch. I need to speak to your fluffy little brother, Cavallone.”

“We’ll arrange something once Hayato’s gotten Tsuna to stop hyperventilating. You spooked him, Xan. He really is the epitome of a fluffy little Home some days; if they’d had the babies with them, he’d have been all tooth and claw, but he’s much more inclined to retreat than fight most days.” His War hesitates and shakes his head. “I really was worried that if we let things go to the battles the Cervello would use his babies to motivate him.” He snarls at the idea, surprising himself, and Dino chuckles. “We had plans, Xan. It would have been a bloody massacre if they even _tried_.”


End file.
